The 12th Man

by Astrid Karlsen Scott

  While Alvin readied, Marius rushed home to change into dry clothes. The boat was tied to a stake a little distance from the shore. Alvin needed another man to help with the large boat. He ran to Alfon Hansen’s house, the man who had been with them on the trip across the fjord on the 19th of April. It did not take them long to row out to Lyngspollen where the fishing boat was tied up. Marius was waiting on the dock when they came to pick him up; they set course for Manndalen. Crossing the Lyngenfjord, they sailed around the headland into Kåfjord and over to Samuelsberg at the tip of Manndalen. Marius went alone up into the village to talk to teacher Nordnes.

  Teacher Nordnes

  School was in session when Marius arrived. He went straight to the classroom. Nordnes instructed the students to study on their own while the two men went over the plans in muffled voices. Marius drew an outline of where Jan was kept and explained in detail where they could find the “Gentleman stone.” He explained how he had crisscrossed two ski poles and placed them a few meters away. Teacher Nordnes nodded and promised they would find Jan this time.

  Marius trudged back toward the dock. He could relax – his mission was accomplished. Yet he knew he would have no peace of mind until he was certain that Jan was safely in Sweden. A sudden exhaustion overtook him.

  THE FOLLOWING day, a German soldier walked briskly up the steep hill leading to the Solberg’s home and knocked on the door.

  In broken Norwegian he explained that a snowslide was blocking the road between Furuflaten and Lyngseidet. “You me understand?”

  “Ja, ja,” Alf understood. “But what does that have to do with me?”

  “Your boat needed now! Germany needs to bring mail and packages to Olderdalen. We go immediately. Come now, schnell!” He motioned for him to come. “We take mail to Olderdalen now.”

  Alf’s good friend Eilif Sørsand was visiting, and offered to come along with them. The German soldier followed after them. The three leaped into the rowboat and rowed the two and a half miles north to Lyngspollen where Alf’s fishing vessel lay moored.

  Climbing aboard, Alf noticed the skis, milk bottles and blankets. His blood chilled. He knew someone from the underground had been there. How could he explain this? Somehow, the German soldier either didn’t notice or found nothing strange about it. They returned southward to Furuflaten.

  They docked the boat and the soldier explained he would be gone just a short while. “I pick up mail at blockhouse. You wait here.”

  Earlier that morning, Agnete, on her return home from the mountains, shared with her brother Olav the expedition she and Marius had made to Jan’s cave during the night. She told him they had left their skis and supplies on the Solbergs’ boat.

  From his kitchen window Olav noticed Alf’s boat approaching the dock with a German soldier aboard, and he feared trouble was brewing. He saw the soldier quickly leave the boat. Olav raced to the dock to help his friends. The three young men brought the skis and other provisions ashore and hid them. Alf and Eilif climbed back aboard the boat just before the soldier returned with the mail. They set off for Olderdalen and returned without a hitch.

  PEOPLE IN the northland are accustomed to looking after each other and neighbors form warm friendships. Young children especially like to visit with neighboring families. Such a child was Roald. The tousle-headed nine-year old lived close to the Solberg family, and dropped in on Alf’s mother, Sigrid, one day.

  Roald and Sigrid struck up a nice conversation when Roald suddenly silenced. He twisted and turned while dragging his finger along the edge of the kitchen table, then blurted out, “Fru Solberg, did you know that a wounded Norwegian soldier came down from Lyngsdalen Valley? Marius hid him in his barn.” Roald was pleased he could share this news with Fru Solberg.

  “Hush child, what are you saying?”

  “They took really good care of him. Marius and his sisters even brought him food every day. But it was too dangerous, so now they have found a new hiding place for him,” Roald continued.

  Sigrid was stunned. This was dangerous.

  “You like Marius a lot don’t you?” questioned Sigrid.

  “Å ja! He is my best grown-up friend. He has taught me how to take care of the animals, and to clean the barn, and…”

  “You would never hurt Marius, would you Roald?” interrupted Sigrid.

  “Oh no! What do you mean? Why would I want to hurt Marius?”

  “You must never – never – never again tell anyone about this.” She was stern. “You have never seen or heard anything about this soldier. The Germans will kill Marius and his whole family if they find out about this. We all are in danger. The Germans could kill other families in Furuflaten and burn the village as well. Do you understand me?”

  Wordless, Roald stared wide-eyed at Sigrid.

  “You must promise that you will never talk to anyone about this until after the war.” Sigrid looked intently at the overwhelmed youngster.

  “Oh, I promise.” Roald’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Come on boy, let’s get your jacket back on and I’ll walk you home. And remember this is our special secret.” The woman patted the boy on the head as she spoke.

  “Ja, this is our special secret.”

  CONCERNED FOR Marius and the people of Furuflaten, Sigrid rushed to the Grønvoll farm after she had walked Roald home. She breathlessly poured out Roald’s story.

  “You must stop him, Marius. We are all at a terrible risk.”

  “This is dreadful,” Marius agreed. “There was nothing we could do. He just dropped in on us unannounced one day when we were caring for Jan. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Sigrid returned home and discussed the matter with Alf.

  “Son, you must ski up into Lyngsdalen Valley and erase the soldier’s footprints. They lead directly to the Grønvoll farm.”

  Alf bid farewell to his mother, strapped his skis on and headed for Lyngsdalen Valley.

  Down by the riverbed, not far from the Grønvoll’s, he found the footprints. Alf noticed that from the riverbed up toward the Grønvoll farm someone had either been frolicking in the snow or had already erased Jan’s footsteps, but on the other side of the river and up where the valley curved into the lofty mountains, the tracks were fully visible.

  Alf couldn’t believe what he saw. Jan’s footprints crisscrossed back and forth, traversed the frozen river, continued up the mountain side, turned back down again and crossed back over the river and up the other side. In places, his footprints disappeared and it looked like he had tumbled down the hillside, then re-crossed the river several times. The last mile, the prints revealed that the wounded soldier had dragged himself forward on all fours, lacking the strength to walk upright any longer.

  Alf followed the footprints some three miles up into the valley where finally they had been erased by a heavy snowfall. He worked tediously to erase all the prints Jan had left, and returned home weary. An anxious Sigrid greeted him.

  “What did you find son?” Alf told his mother the mind-boggling story.

  “Are you sure you removed all the evidence? This is very dangerous for everyone in Furuflaten.”

  “I cannot be sure I got it all, but I did my best.”

  “Don’t you think it would be wise to go back and make certain all the footprints are gone?”

  Alf looked at his mother’s troubled face and agreed to return. He returned to the valley and made sure every trace of Jan’s prints was thoroughly rubbed out, leaving only his own ski tracks. The evening shadows had fallen by the time he finished. An expert skier, Alf reached home without any further incident.

  There is a time for all things,

  a time to preach and a time to pray….

  There is a time to fight,

  and that time is now come.

  — Peter Muhlenberg

  PEDER AND NIGO FIND THE SNOW CAVE

  LATER THAT day, Peder Isaksen and Nigo received a long-awaited call from teacher Nordnes. “The fish yarn is completed, and is ready to
be picked up.”

  Both men were anxious and geared up for another trip to the plateau. They met above the tree line when darkness gave them cover, around 11 p.m. They had planned their trip straight up the mountainside toward the west and a bit north of Kjerringdalen Valley, a precipitous side valley to Manndalen. They headed straight for Revdal. Weather conditions were good with excellent skiing. Soon they reached the plateau and could see Revdalen stretch out before it extended downhill toward the west. To the south was the black vertical mountain wall rising upwards nearly 200 feet. North, the landscape was considerably lower and less steep with round hillocks punctuated by small round short valleys.

  Below them, the valley floor flattened out and extended ahead with a wide outrun plateau. Under the snow, one might guess it to be a wide river delta or even a marsh. Marshes this high up in the mountains were not unusual and harbored diminutive cloudberry plants, the fruits of which are cherished by summer hikers. Beyond the outrun plateau, the valley shrank to a narrow gap in the surrounding bedrock, which joined the inhospitable mountain wall down toward Lyngenfjorden. At the bottom of the gap, the river plunged over the rocks by the looming mountain wall.

  From where Peder and Nigo stood at the top of the Revdal plateau, they could look straight through the narrow chasm into the thin air above Lyngenfjord. Across the fjord on the other side sat stark and mighty Pollfjellet Mountain. Tucked at the base of the massive walls was Furuflaten.

  Peder Isaksen

  Peder and Nigo continued rapidly down Revdalen Valley, anxious to find Jan. Gradually, way down in the valley, where the terrain dropped steeply, two ski poles took shape in the snow to the left of a large boulder near the mountain wall.

  “This time we’ve found him!”

  “Let’s go!”

  The two men jubilantly pushed off down the rock-strewn plateau, faster than they were comfortable with in this difficult terrain, but tension and concern drove them on. The ski conditions were near ice and it was difficult to keep their speed in check. Every moment counted for the lonely soldier, and Peder and Nigo were eager to reach him and quell his anguish.

  When they reached the ski poles, they realized they had not come far enough down into the valley on their prior search. The many hours they spent hunting for him four days ago had been too far up in Revdalen.

  The ski poles were tied together at the top and there was no doubt in their mind that this was the place. A few feet to the side of the poles lay a huge boulder so thickly covered with snowdrifts from the mountain winds that it could pass for one of the hillocks in the downward slope they had crossed.

  Nigo Nilsen

  Hesitantly they looked at the snow masses. It was difficult to believe that a human being could have survived underneath it all for four days - alone, surely frightened, ill and in pain. Wrapped in a sleeping bag, lying on a wooden sleigh and buried in snow, how had he managed? Was he still alive?

  There was no movement. They heard no sound except for the wind as it swept over them, and all they could see was snow. The thought that close to their feet, underneath all that snow, lay a Norwegian soldier in flight from the Germans was rather incomprehensible to them.

  Nigo, always the optimistic one, always believing in the possible, still believed the soldier alive even after all these days and the cruel circumstances. Peder, a more practical-minded man, was a little more skeptical. He found it hard to believe that anybody could survive under these conditions for five days, particularly a very ill man.

  The snow was three feet deep, and even more so in places because of the drifts, which had been blown up against the boulder. They dug with their hands since they had not brought a shovel along. It seemed to them that they were digging a long time. Aware that Jan had a weapon, they continually called the password down into the deep hole, “Hello Gentleman! Hello Gentleman!”

  The answer they hoped for did not come. They knelt and kept digging. They stopped for a brief moment and just stared at each other. Even for positive Nigo, hope began to fade.

  “Maybe I have been a fool, but I really believed this man made it.”

  “Hello Gentleman! Hello Gentleman!” It was hopeless, but they could not just leave without seeing for themselves that he really was dead. So many had tried so hard to rescue him, so many wanted Jan to succeed in reaching Sweden.

  They had dug down over four feet when a fragile, feeble voice answered their gentleman-call. Even when they stopped calling, the barely perceptible voice continued to answer in a low whisper, “Hello Gentleman, Hello Gentleman, Hello Gentleman!” The men froze.

  They dug at top speed, and in record time they freed Jan from his entombment. To their astonishment, as best they could observe, Jan’s mind was clear; nonetheless he was terribly weak. He was still dressed in his military clothes inside the military sleeping bag, which lay directly on the sled. He had no other clothing over him.

  Inside his cave he had managed to fashion a small shelf about six inches long. On this shelf lay his most prized possession at the moment, a sugar cube! This sugar cube was the only food he had left. Before the Manndalen men arrived, Jan picked it up every so often, sucked on it a couple of times and carefully placed it back on the shelf.

  “Were you able to bring a cigarette or two?” Jan wondered. He relaxed as he exhaled and the smoke swirled around him. Not until then was he ready for the food they had brought: some cured meat and bread, and some spirits to warm him up.

  Jan eagerly ate the delicious food, recovering strength with each bite. Peder and Nigo tried to make Jan as comfortable as possible. They cared for him in every way, cleaned him up, and fed him until he was satisfied.

  Morning neared and Peder and Nigo had to return to the valley before the people in the valley awoke.

  It was time to return Jan to his snow shelf. How they hated themselves for having to do it. Peder and Nigo filled in the opening, leaving a small hole for air. They promised Jan that the next night, four men would come from Manndalen to transport him to Sweden and freedom. Jan was greatly comforted, cheered and encouraged by these thoughtful and generous strangers.

  They said their goodbyes and Peder and Nigo started their ascent up the steep mountain to the top of the plateau and down again, to Manndalen.

  The original plan had been to move Jan by reindeer transport to Sweden, but that seemed all but impossible at this point. They had to pass Skibotn, which was crowded with Germans, and in any case, the helpers were not near the Sami’s regular travel route.

  Manndalen, 30 April, 1943: It was daybreak when Peder and Nigo came down from the mountain plateau. Soon after, they contacted Aslak Fossvoll and teacher Nordnes. Four men had to retrieve Jan the following night and help transport him to Sweden. Peder Isaksen and Nigo Nilsen would return, and with them would be Nils Brustrøm and Olaf Olsen.

  Olaf Olsen was a twenty-three year old farmer who lived on the east side of Manndalen River. A strong youth, a hard worker, dependable and persevering, he felt honored to be asked to help with Jan.

  Nils Brustrøm lived on his farm, Brustrøm, highest up in the interior of Manndalen valley. All four were anxious to get Jan to Sweden, knowing that his health was deteriorating rapidly. The men agreed to meet at the usual place just above the tree line at 11 p.m.

  That afternoon the wind picked up. They had all hoped for a reprieve from the stormy weather conditions for a few days; after all it was spring. Towards evening, the wind increased to a moderate gale with a strong storm in the wind gusts.

  The four men thought they might still manage the ascent, but the violent snowdrifts blinded them. They arched themselves against the snow and the wind as they inched their way upward. Higher up in Kjerringdalen Valley, the wind increased to such a velocity that it was near impossible to breathe or to keep one’s balance. There were no options - they had to return to the valley floor.

  Peder and Nigo had promised Jan they would return on this night. But it was impossible; they would not be able to keep their word. In Manndal
en to keep your word was a virtue of necessity; it was unthinkable not to. The overpowering weather made it impossible for the young men to follow through on their promise.

  Restless, the men could not stop thinking about Jan up on the plateau, helpless and trapped behind the “Gentleman stone.”

  Later, they tried several different routes, but each ended in disappointment. It was impossible. They could not see their own feet. The wind and the full-blown whiteout forced the four men to turn back. Concern for Jan weighed heavy on all of their minds. In these weather conditions, though, he was better off right where he was – in the snow cave.

  May 1, 1943: The storm raged on. The men tried to reach the plateau by a different route. It was no use. They had to turn back.

  May 2, 1943: The stormy weather continued. They did not stand a chance of making it. Peder and Nigo worried constantly about Jan, but they were powerless against the tempest.

  May 3, 1943: The storm screeched through the valley. The wind howled around the house corners and it was impossible for any human being to be outside. This was the fourth day; none could remember such spring weather. The men decided they had to try to reach Jan. Again they tried an alternate route, but the storm pounded them. No living creature could make it up on the plateau in such weather. Defeated, they returned to the valley. They began to doubt that Jan could have made it through such weather. Anxious as they were for a let-up, they could do nothing but wait inside.

  It might cost me my life,

  but what of it? You have to

  say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ to life.

  — Marius Grønvoll

  JAN’S SOLITUDE

  ENCOURAGED, JAN settled back down by himself after Peder and Nigo had left. Little bursts of happiness ran through him. He looked forward to the new happenings and the plans for his final rescue.

  He started thinking about the near future. He decided a large tub filled with hot water and soap was top priority for him. He wanted to soak for hours.